Reign of the Pyro
by MattheJ1
Summary: Yeah, I know, another quick capitalization of the Meet the Pyro video. But hear me out. I've actually been planning this one for a while and have just now gotten around with it. Please read it. Thank you.
1. Chapter 1: Initiation

Reign of the Pyro

**Note:** Yeah, I know, another quick capitalization of the Meet the Pyro video. But hear me out. I've actually been planning this one for a while and have just now gotten around with it. Please read it. Thank you.

**Chapter 1: Initiation**

DUSTBOWL, 9:30 A.M.

"Sentry ahead!"

The Blue Medic sighed. Of all the pointless things the Scout had yelled in the past 5 minutes, that was perhaps the least useful. Of course there was a sentry ahead. It had only been pinning them down for the last 3 minutes. And with the Heavy AFK and the enemy Sniper gunning from the worst possible angle, their momentum towards the final control point had ground to a halt. It seemed nobody was willing to try to jump out and break the stalemate, and they were almost out of time.

"Demoman! I need help!" the Medic called out. Surely the burly Scotsman would be more than willing to lead the charge. But no, it seemed he was occupied with a few sticky bombs, which he had been waiting 30 seconds for one of the Red team to wander into. It was obvious that he wouldn't budge.

"Soldier!" the Medic began, only to falter as he saw the Soldier playing a game of cat-and-mouse with the enemy Scout. The Medic offered a silent curse to that damn Equalizer. The Soldier had received it a week ago, and he was still under the illusion that it would somehow allow him to catch the Red Scout, who had already proved him wrong on multiple occasions.

The Medic sighed. It seemed nobody would be willing to push the final charge. Then, suddenly, the Blue Pyro walked up. The two looked at each other for a moment, and then the Medic nodded. Flicking on his Ubercharge, the Medic ran out from behind the corner, the Pyro right in front of him. The two charged.

xxxxxxx

"Spy's sapping my dispenser!"

The Blue Spy chuckled as the Engineer ran back to his precious dispenser. His chuckle became a fully blown laugh as he stabbed the Engineer in the back. Down he fell, and his Dispenser exploded in a shower of metal. Moving quickly, before anyone could notice, the Spy flawlessly assumed the Red Engineer's identity as he ran towards the battle zone, prepared to finish off the Engineer's sentry.

As it turned out, he needed not worry, as his team's Pyro had come around the corner, gun literally blazing, and he was making quite a mess of the battlefield. Briefly wondering where the Red Pyro was, the Spy ran to the sentry, preparing to place his signature sapper. However, no sooner had he reached the sentry than it was destroyed by the Pyro. As a matter of fact, the Pyro was destroying everything on the battlefield, despite the fact that his Ubercharge had long since worn off.

Now the rest of the team – considerably far behind the Pyro, the Spy noted with disdain – had joined the charge. Even the Heavy, who had hidden his fat face after the Red Scout had claimed a particularly brutal domination, had joined in the charge. It seemed like the Pyro's charge had been just what the team needed to tip the balance in their favor.

Suddenly, the Pyro stopped. He whirled around and blew his flamethrower at what seemed to be empty space. A body materialized out of nowhere – the Red Spy – and collapsed to the ground. The Blue Spy chuckled, for after numerous encounters with this precise Spy, he knew that the Pyro's victory would be short lived.

But then the Pyro swirled around, axe in hand, and in one fluid stroke, cut of the head of the real Red Spy, whose corpse was no illusion this time. The Spy frowned. It had taken him days to figure out the Dead Ringer cloaking device, and the Pyro had discovered its unique trick in seconds. Did this mean that the Pyro was smarter than him?

Well, he couldn't do anything about it now. All that was left to do was to walk through the zone of devastation that was Control Point C and help the Pyro capture the now defenseless final control point.

xxxxxxx

A massacre. That's what this battle had become.

Far above the battle, the Red Sniper looked down at the final control point, where the Blue Pyro had swiftly eviscerated his entire team. After attempting and failing a few shots, the Sniper discovered, to his dismay, that he had all but run out of ammunition, and had one bullet left to hold off the Blue team from winning the round.

But who would he shoot? The Medic, with his damning Ubercharge? The Spy, who had eliminated their Engineer? No, his last bullet would go to the Pyro, whose charge had so swiftly lost them the battle. With the Blue Medic focused on their Heavy, it would be an easy shot.

The Sniper steadied his aim, took a deep breath, focused his sight on the Pyro's head, and fired. The bullet flew through the air and embedded itself in the Pyro's skull.

What? It hadn't killed him? That was impossible! The Pyro only had so much health, and the Medic hadn't healed him in a while, so how could he-

The Pyro turned towards the Sniper. He ducked behind cover, hoping the Pyro hadn't seen him.

But that was ridiculous. He probably couldn't see ten feet in front of his bloody nose with that mask on. The Sniper reemerged at the windowsill, to find that the Pyro had selected a new weapon, but with the sun in his eyes, he could barely see – damn.

The Pyro fired his flare gun at the Sniper, its arc perfectly calculated. The last thing the Red Sniper saw was a blue fireball heading towards him, with the crackle of electricity that could only mean a critical hit…

xxxxxxx

_VICTORY._

The voice rang through the compound as the Blue team stormed the Red spawn point, killing the other eight team members. Once the job was done, everyone turned to the job of congratulating each other. After a few seconds, their talk naturally turned to the exceptional behavior of the Pyro.

"That was a particularly excellent charge, Herr Pyro," the Medic commended, slapping the Pyro on the back.

"I must confess, you did perform quite admirably," the Spy allowed.

"Another game like that, and that Red scum will have no chance!" the Soldier remarked.

Through all of this, the Pyro said nothing. After a while, he walked into the Red spawn point, much to the confusion of the rest of the team.

"Where the bloody hell is that Pyro going?" the Demoman wondered aloud. The Scout, not waiting for an answer, ran into the spawn point behind the Pyro.

"Hey, hot pants, what are you – AAH!"

The Scout's body hit the floor and the Pyro emerged. For just a moment, the team stared, perplexed. It was the Spy who broke them out of their stupor, shouting, "You idiots! Look at his flamethrower!"

The Pyro held a Red flamethrower in his hands.

Broken from their stupor, the seven remaining members of the Blue team opened fire, spraying the Pyro with a deadly array of bullets, explosives, and hypodermic needles. But it was no use, for their teammate, crazed though he might be, was immune to their Blue weapons, and his Red flamethrower made short work of them.

All except the Spy. Moments after he had shouted his warning cry, he had cloaked and dashed into the Red spawn point, and was already rifling through their weapons cabinet, looking for something he could use. Finally, he found what he was looking for: a Red butterfly knife, identical to his own.

The Blue Pyro slowly strolled into the Red base, coiled like a spring. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was looking for his final teammate. Unfortunately, he was leaving his back particularly exposed. One quick jab from the Red knife, and his demented rampage would come to a screeching halt.

Fine time for his cloak to run out.

Quickly, the Spy lunged for the kill, but the Pyro turned at the last moment, leaving only a nonfatal gash in his arm. As the Spy desperately attempted to circle the Pyro, the flamethrower roared into action, and the Spy was soon engulfed in flames. Trying not to focus on the pain, the Spy finally sank his knife into the Pyro's back, but the damage was done. The Spy sank to the ground, the flames hungrily lapping up their victim. His last thought before he lost consciousness was that whatever madness had taken the Pyro, at least he had ended his life. The Spy closed his eyes and died.

xxxxxxx

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

The Blue Spy opened his eyes and, with a hint of relief, saw that he was back in his own spawn point with his teammates.

"Is everyone all right?" the Medic asked with his usual worrisome way.

"Never mind that. Pyro, what the hell were you-" the Spy began, and then stopped.

The Pyro was nowhere to be found.


	2. Chapter 2: Deliberation

**Chapter 2:** Deliberation

BLUE MAIN BASE, 10:30 P.M.

"What I would like to know is, where the hell has that Pyro gone?"

The Spy sighed. "For the last time, Soldier, we have no way of knowing where our compatriot has gone." It had been difficult enough to get the team in order without that thick-headed American blurting out the same question every few seconds.

"Well, somebody ought to find out!" the Soldier retorted.

"Tell me, soldier, what are the odds of that occurring to you before me?" the Frenchman snapped.

"Don't backsass me, Frenchie! I was serving in wars while you were still sucking on snails!"

"EVERYONE QUIET!" Heavy shouted. The room fell into silence, and the Spy returned to where he had left off.

"Well then. On to the next order of business. Doctor, have you procured those brain scans I requested?"

The Medic shifted uneasily in his seat. "Well, the problem with that is, there weren't any."

The Spy spun around. "What? Mann Co. protocol states that every employee must undergo a psychological examination before they are fit for duty!"

The Scout spoke up. "If that were the case, d'you really think Helmet McRocket Jump over there would've made it through?"

"Enough!" the Spy shouted, before another fight could break out. "Engineer, have you found a way to reach the Red base?"

The Texan looked up from his workbench. "Well, you can forget about verbal communication, but I found this old Morse Code system in one of our old storerooms."

"Excellent. Then relay the following message:

"Attention Red team. Attention Red team. One of our teammates has undergone a mental breakdown and turned against us. As such, we will be unable to partake in our usual battles until this matter has been resolved. We value your cooperation in this effort. Thank you."

As the Engineer began tapping, the Demoman piped up. "And why should we be trustin' them? For all we know, they might've hired him to take us out!"

"You seem to be forgetting one crucial fact," the Medic responded. "They already have a Pyro on their team."

"Well, who says they don't want two?" the Demoman persisted.

"What I want to know is, where the hell has that Pyro gone?"

The Spy sighed. This was going to be a long day.

xxxxxxx

DUSTBOWL, 11:00 A.M.

The Pyro rummaged through the equipment, occasionally wincing at the wound in his back. He readjusted the Medigun, making sure its beam focused on the steadily receding knife wound. After a few hours, the wound was gone, and he had found what he was looking for.

Two flamethrowers, one Red, one Blue, crossed behind his back. He'd just need the Red one for now, but eventually he'd need the other.

Two flare guns, one Red, one Blue, holstered in his belt. He wasn't planning on making himself noticed, but on the off chance someone would engage him from afar… yes, he'd need them.

Two axes, one Red, one Blue, hidden somewhere on his person. Close quarter weapons seemed a bit redundant, but in case some nonflammable door blocked his passage…yes, those were a must.

And one Red stickybomb launcher. From within his suit, a sound that could've been a chuckle emanated. Yes, he'd definitely need that.

**Note:** I originally intended to end this chapter with an action scene, but the chapter really wouldn't have flowed as well. Instead, I'll include it in the next chapter. Trust me, it's worth the wait.


	3. Chapter 3: Infiltration

**Note:** Thanks for the support this story has gotten already. Quite frankly, I'm surprised this is the only Pyro-themed fanfic that's come out recently.

**Chapter 3: Infiltration**

BLUE MAIN BASE, 11:45 P.M.

The Scout yawned. It had been a long day of arguing and debate about what to do about the Pyro situation. The Soldier had yelled everything and said nothing, the Demoman had passed out drunk around 7, and even the restrained Sniper had gotten in a few shouts. All of that, and the best solution they could come up with was to sit on their asses and wait?

He, on the other hand, had a brilliant plan: just run out and deal with it. It was only one man, after all, and he couldn't possibly stand up to all eight of them. Hell, he could probably get the crazy bastard on his own, one on one.

That was the way Billy Liebowicz had taken on his bullies back home in Boston, one by one. That was how the Mann Co. executives had found him in the first place, and the Scout saw no reason it wouldn't work again.

He yawned again. Oh well. The rest of the team had made their stupid-ass decision, and at yeast he could sleep on it. He crawled into his bunk, curled into a ball, and slept.

xxxxxxx

BLUE MAIN BASE, 1:59 A.M.

AOOGAH! AOOGAH!

The Soldier snapped straight out of bed within seconds, adding his voice to that of the siren. "YOU HEARD THE HORN, UP AND AT 'EM!"

The Sniper woke up next, quite tired but alert in seconds. The Spy, on the other hand, was always poised to wake up, alert for angry cries of, "SPY!" and was in his suit and on his feet in moments. The rest of the team took quite a bit longer, particularly the Demoman, who had a bad hangover and was particularly sore about being woken up.

As for the Engineer, he sat in the briefing room, drumming his fingers on the conference table impatiently. If his team was this slow to react to a warning signal, who knows how long they might take when the actual Pyro was knocking on their door?

This would've never happened back at MIT. Back there, John Friesal and his colleagues wouldn't have blinked twice about getting up late to work on a project. Hell, the Teleporter would never have been invented if he had slept as much as these men!

But that was back then. Now he was the Engineer, and a good Engineer was nothing without his team.

In any case, they had all assembled by the time five minutes had passed, some more irritated than others. "Tell me, little man, what is such big scary problem that brings us out of happy sleep time?" the Heavy growled.

The Engineer wasted no time in cutting to the chase. "The respawners! They're gone!"

This woke the team up instantly. Surely he didn't mean what they thought he meant.

"Gone, or broken, or meddled with – either way, every single respawn hub we've got is out of commission! That blasted Pyro must've fried their circuitry!"

This announcement plunged the table into chaos. Only a blast from the Spy's revolver brought the team back into order.

"Silence! I do not think yelling and screaming will help our cause at all! Now tell me, Engineer, will you be able to fix our respawn system?"

"I don't know. I mean, if I had the original schematics on hand, which I don't, then probably. But right now, it could take days, maybe even weeks."

A hushed silence fell over the team. The Spy felt compelled to give some sort of speech to rally them together, so he stood up, lit a cigarette, and did just that.

"Gentlemen, this situation is far worse than any we have ever encountered before. A wild pyromaniac on the loose, and our respawn system failing. The implications of these two facts are almost too dangerous to imagine.

"But we must not fear, for in crippling our respawn system, our demented foe has made a crucial mistake: he himself cannot respawn either!"

The rest of the team, having clearly not thought of this, perked up a bit.

"And he is but one man, and we are eight; it would be almost impossible for us to not triumph!"

His seven teammates were considerably bolstered by then. The Soldier went as far as to jump onto the table, pull out his Equalizer, and shout, "Yeah, let's get the bastard!"

"Not yet, my helmeted compatriot! First, we must formulate a plan. Our first order of business is to procure a set of Red weapons, as our own are incapable of incapacitating this Blue menace. Next, we will need better armor. None of us are prepared for a full battle with this flame-toting monstrosity, but a suit of metal armor should turn the tides of battle quickly. Then, and only then, shall we find where this Pyro is!"

THUNK.

A small object fell from the ceiling and landed in the center of the conference table. The Sniper, ever alert, quickly focused his scope on the rafters, but whoever had dropped the mysterious package had vanished almost immediately.

The rest of the team stared at the object that had landed on the table. It was black, about a foot in diameter, and had two short cylinders extending from it.

The Heavy was the first to recognize just what the object was, and the others caught on quickly enough.

It was a head inside a flame retardant mask with the word RED written on it.

xxxxxxx

The whole team was silent. Even the Scout, who always had something to say, was speechless.

Perhaps the Spy was the most stunned of all. Of course, the Blue Pyro had threatened this very action by sabotaging their respawn points, but he had half suspected that it was all a façade, merely an intimidation tactic. But now that he had actually killed someone…

The Scout, after sitting there for a while, picked up the head and began to lift off the mask.

"What are you doing?" the Spy asked.

"Face it, man, this is the last chance we're going to get to see this guy's face," the Scout responded.

The Spy didn't respond. In truth, he was also curious about the man who had turned every mission into a living hell for him.

Later, he would blame himself for what happened next, saying that he should have stopped the boy.

It was the Demoman who first saw the telltale red, spiky balls that could only mean one thing.

"No! Don't! It's a-"

The stickybombs detonated, sending the Scout flying across the room. As he landed, the crunching of a bone could be heard as he landed on his wrist. "Medic!" he cried in pain.

The Medic rushed to his side, but without his Medigun he was unable to help the poor boy. In fact, none of them had any of their weapons. It slowly sunk into them just how vulnerable they were in that flimsy little base.

Made of wood.

It was the Engineer who first saw the smoke crawling from under the doorway. "Fire!" he quickly yelled to the others.

The Spy wasted no time. "Gentlemen, we must evacuate immediately! Scout, can you walk?"

The Scout took a few steps. "I think so."

"Then let us waste no time!"

The eight ran towards the exit as, all around them, the building was consumed by flames. The fires cast long shadows across the hallway, and to the helpless Blue team it seemed that each and every shadow held a Pyro, lying in wait.

Then one of them did.

It was the Heavy he chose to attack, with first a quick axe chop to the ankles, and then a blast of the flamethrower as the giant Russian fell. He had memorized the time perfectly, and so he knew that he needed only seven seconds before the Heavy was dead, and he could move on to the rest.

1…2…3…4…5…

Blam! Blam!

The Force-A-Nature's two chambers quickly emptied, and suddenly the Pyro was blasted backwards into a wall of flames. "Go! Go! Go!" the Scout shouted to the rest of his team. "I'll hold him off!"

"But Scout!" the Medic began.

"No time, Doc! You gotta run!" the Scout returned.

So the seven other teammates resumed their dash for the exit, with the Heavy eating his Sandvich as he ran. Meanwhile, the Pyro had emerged from his wall of flames and now faced the Scout, his finger twitching on the flamethrower. Rather than distract him, the flames seemed to fuel the madness with in him, and he lifted his flamethrower in the air, yelling a battle cry.

Big mistake.

Within seconds, the Scout dove under the Pyro's legs and fired the Force-A-Nature twice, blasting the Pyro not back, but up towards the rafters. When he came down, Scout heard the crunch of a broken leg and smiled.

"Looks like you still fall down like the rest of us, firebender!" the Scout announced gleefully, and proceeded to repeat the process, launching the Pyro airborne once more. However, this time he did not come down.

The Scout, puzzled, looked up, wondering if perhaps the Pyro had grabbed a rafter on his way up. Suddenly, he heard something hit the ground. He wheeled around and saw the Pyro's flamethrower hit the ground. Then he felt the airblast knock him off his feet, and he landed on his back. Then, as he turned over to pick himself up, something else landed on his back.

The Pyro had been holding onto a rafter. But he wasn't anymore.

xxxxxxx

Well, now he had quite a bit of egg on his face, didn't he.

He had of course realized that he was still vulnerable to fall damage, but to think that the Scout would find that weakness so quickly – and what had he been thinking, targeting the Heavy first? Of course someone would have intercepted him before he was finished!

The Pyro got off the Scout and slowly walked over to his flamethrower. Well, that was a mistake he wasn't going to make again.

Now, let's see, for the Scout it should take much less time. Only about three seconds, maybe.

He pointed the flamethrower at the Scout.

1…2…3…

And just like that, there were seven left.


	4. Chapter 4: Elimination

**Chapter 4: Elimination**

MANN CO. ROOT CELLAR, 10:00 A.M.

Halfway into his fifteenth drink, the Demoman paused to look around the massive room filled with liquor. No Pyro. That was worth celebrating, and he did so by finishing his drink.

All that had happened last night was pounding at his head, trying to get in.

_What could've gotten into that Pyro's head?_

_That poor Scout, and he was just a little boy, too!_

_How could he have destroyed all of the respawn points?_

The Demoman – ah, to hell with it, what did titles matter anymore – Duncan MacLomore shrugged off these thoughts, aided by the thick shield of alcohol that surrounded him.

However, despite all of those drinks, the Demoman was not drunk by any sense of the word. His admirable tolerance level coupled with his large stature meant that his wits were as razor sharp as ever.

Twelve stickybombs lined the floors around him, and more peppered the walls. Duncan had accumulated 3 heads with his Eyelander before this whole business began – not perfect, but enough to allow him to outrun any Pyro. If he could outrun that freak, he could trap him, and if he could trap him in this room – well, that would be excellent.

Said Eyelander was resting in his hilt, and the Demoman was itching to try it out. The sword was probably a bad bet, since it would be much safer to take the Pyro from afar. Still…

Also safely holstered was his trusty grenade launcher, with bombs that ached to come out and detonate. Duncan had concocted a special formula, one that would be able to kill the Blue Pyro as easily as a Red Pyro.

All that was missing was the Pyro.

Suddenly, there was a rustling noise. The Demoman stood up, grenade launcher clutched in his hand, looking around for the source of the noise. A flash of movement on the side of his good eye caught his attention, and standing there, in full figure, was none other than the Pyro. Not wasting a second, the Demoman fired.

The bomb found its destination, and the cardboard figure shattered into splinters.

The Demoman cursed his nerves. Of course that was a cardboard cutout. He of all people should've known, he'd only blown apart a few hundred of them at basic training!

Just then, the real Pyro decided that the time was right. He jumped from behind the keg he had been hiding at, simultaneously triggering two other cardboard cutouts to pop up. The Demoman, confused, did exactly what the Pyro had hoped he would, and what any idiot who had booby-trapped the room he himself was in would do.

The building exploded, sending shards of wood and metal flying into the air. The Demoman was blasted into the air with it, but luckily he landed in a soft place.

And then the Pyro's axe landed in an even softer place.

Six left.

xxxxxxx

The Spy sat at the table, pondering and deliberating. He supposed that he could've spent the time searching for a more secure hiding place, but when it came to hiding, he was already pretty much as good as he could get. However, questions were questions, and all questions needed answers.

Had their Pyro really killed the Red Pyro? Yes. If the man was half as clever as the Spy believed, he would have recognized that the other pyromaniac, with his flame-retardant suit, would be his biggest threat, and disposed of him quickly.

Had he killed the Scout? Almost certainly, and judging by the explosion from the root cellar, the Spy had a good suspicion of who his next victim had been.

Were they truly gone for good? Probably not. The Spy had known many men like the Pyro, back when he was Francois Pellino, master saboteur and disguise specialist. Yes, plenty of men, only they had been in charge of whole countries, dictators mad with power, and they would never blow the world up all of a sudden.

Not when they could watch it burn.

Yes, Francois new his teammates – his friends – were still alive, perhaps respawned somewhere where that sick man could enjoy torturing them. After killing him, it would be a matter of tracking his fallen teammates down. It would be just like rescuing prisoners of war from Vietnam, except this was only one man.

Then why was he so nervous?

High above, in the rafters, the Pyro was nervous, too. It wouldn't take long to finish him off, but the Spy was by far the most cunning member of the team. So far, all of his assaults had been aimed at the dullards of the team, but this one would be risky.

A quick leap from the rafter and two seconds of the flamethrower would be all it took. The Pyro tensed his muscles, ready to leap. 5…4…3…

The Spy reached into his coat, grabbing for his revolver! No, wait…just a cigarette. He put the cigarette to his lips, pulled out a lighter, and clicked it. However, it seemed the device was out of fuel, for the Spy clicked it again and again with increasing irritation. Finally, he abandoned the lighter, casting it aside in disgust.

"Just my luck. Say, you wouldn't happen to have a light, would you?"

The confusion from this comment combined with the realization that the Spy knew perfectly well that he was there was almost long enough. Fortunately, the sight of the Spy pulling out his revolver, the Ambassador, was just enough to pull the Pyro out of his stupor. He jumped out of the way of the shot just in time and fired off a flare at the Spy. Sure enough, he burst into flames, but he quickly recovered, kicking over a crate to reveal a secret passageway and diving in.

The Pyro jumped down from the ceiling, ignoring the pain, and fired a flare into the passageway, hoping he had hit that blasted Spy. Two hits would be more than enough to take him.

*splash*

The Pyro groaned. Water. Of course. The Spy was trying to lure him into a water trap. The worst kind, in his opinion, because all of his fiery attacks could do nothing, forcing him to rely on melee only.

Well, he wasn't about to risk his life on a blind tunnel. In spite of his anger, the Pyro had to admire his old teammates' ability to escape him.

No matter. There were five other Blue members to focus on right now, and some of them could have useful items. He could wait for the Spy.

He had all the time in the world.

xxxxxxx

Meanwhile, in the ruins of the Blue home base, a solitary figure surveys the damage, searching. Finally, he finds what he is looking for: A small body, burned and broken.

"Poor Scout. He ran fast and died a virgin. But perhaps he did not deserve it."

The figure picks up the body, slowly walking back to where he came.


	5. Chapter 5: Subjugation

**Chapter 5: Subjugation**

HIGHTOWER, 5:30 P.M.

The Sniper adjusted his position and scanned the perimeter once again. Still no Pyro to be found. He took another gulp of coffee and prepared to scan again.

This was what he was made for. No teams bumbling around calling for their precious Medics, no enemy Sniper to weed out, just him, a pot of coffee, an ever-increasing supply of Jarate, a high powered sniper rifle, and one wild beast to sort out. He still couldn't believe he had managed to reach this tower unmolested, let alone find a well-functioning Red sniper rifle. All

He still wasn't sure who it was that had suggested the team split up back at the base, but he thanked them for it. His teammates would have only gotten in his way, or done something stupid…

"Do you hear me, Pyro scum? I'M CALLING YOU OUT!"

The Sniper sighed. Yeah, just like that.

xxxxxxx

The Blue Soldier marched across the desert, calling out to the Pyro. "No tricks, no fancy weapons, just a one-on-one battle! If you've got any kind of honor, you'll accept!"

His voice had gotten a bit hoarse from shouting through map after map, but he knew he could power through it, just like a muscle cramp. He'd eventually find the Pyro and then it was payback time!

He couldn't help but chuckle at his own ingenuity, for he had developed a foolproof plan to thwart that fool Pyro. You see, the Pyro had gotten the drop on him before because he had used Red weapons on a Blue teammate. Little would he suspect that the Soldier had chosen to dress in not blue, not red, but purple! Ha! That fool wouldn't know what to do!

That's why he was so surprised when the Pyro caught him from behind with a Red Flare Gun.

Wheeling around to face the Pyro, the Soldier suddenly experienced a strange phenomenon: a quick, localized burst of heavy yellow rain that instantaneously extinguished him. Not pausing to question this strange anomaly, the Soldier quickly found and fired at the Pyro with his rocket launcher.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the Pyro jumped straight into the air! And out of pure luck, he managed to time it just right to launch himself higher into the air! Fancy that! He almost used it like the Soldier would a rocket jump, and he seemed to be coming down right on-

DONK!

xxxxxxx

Back in the tower, the Sniper held back a groan as he lined up his shot. It had been an almost fatal flaw to throw that Jarate, but he had felt an odd sort of concern for the Soldier.

The sort of concern that would get you mauled by dingos back in Australia.

But never mind that now. The Australian finally had a clear bead on the Pyro. Just in time, too, as the Pyro seemed to be on the verge of victory. He pulled the trigger.

BANG!

Nothing.

What the hell? He had a bead on that bastard's fat head, hadn't he? He was perfectly calm, there was no wind, and bullet drop was out of the question, so how could he have missed?

Well, no matter. He knew just how to figure out where his shots were going. He put down the Red sniper rifle and picked up a bow and arrow, also Red, and looked back at the Pyro and Soldier. To his horror, he found that the Pyro had knocked the Soldier to the ground and was on the verge of driving his axe into the man's skull! But that meant his guard was utterly down, too. Not wasting a single moment, the Sniper drew his bow, notched an arrow, and fired.

The arrow flew straight to its target, not veering an inch from its course.

A moment later, the axe, too, hit its target.

The Sniper ducked behind cover. Damn. If his arrows couldn't take down that beast, then what could? This thought, wild and speculative, was unhealthy, and he soon replaced it with a more useful one: Did that Pyro know he was in there?

That was a bloody stupid question, too. Of course the Pyro knew. He had only thrown three different weapons from his position, two of which had hit the man himself. The real question was, how did he plan on retaliating? Would he try to get the Sniper long range with his flare gun, or climb up the tower and finish him off personally?

The answer came a moment later, when the Sniper heard the distinctive sound of a rocket launcher.

Double damn.

xxxxxxx

2FORT SEWERS, 7:30 P.M.

The Engineer analyzed his hand, studying all seven cards. Finally, he pulled out three fives and laid them down on the table. "Three of a kind, pardner. How about you?

The Heavy frowned at his cards. "Let us see. I have red seven, black five, black three, black nine, and red nine. All odds. This is good, no?"

The Engineer sighed. "Pal, I think you just don't understand poker."

The sentry beeped as it completed its 90 degree rotation, turning back around, swiveling back to its starting point, and beeping again. After a few hours, it was starting to piss them off, but it was their only defense against the Pyro.

Suddenly, the walkie-talkie the Engineer always kept by his side began to squall, emitting a few garbled words amidst a wave of static.

__

"Tiny box make noise!" the Heavy exclaimed as the Engineer fiddled with the knob, trying to get a clearer signal.

__

"Repeat message!" the Engineer shouted into his walkie-talkie, but before the person on the other end could comply…

BEEPBEEP! The sentry cried, firing a barrage of rockets and bullets into the pipe on the right.

"Pyro is here!" The Heavy shouted, picking up his minigun and adding his own bullets to the fray. The Engineer, forgetting all about the walkie-talkie as he ran to join the fight, drew his shotgun and began pumping rounds into the tunnel as well.

After a few minutes, however, the sentry and minigun were both empty, and all that was left to do was to investigate the spot they had been firing at.

Nobody was there. Not only that, but it looked like nobody had ever been there. And yet his sentry had fired every last bullet it had at that one spot. How could it have failed?

To top it all off, they had wasted way too much ammo. Bullets, rockets, all fired into this one spot in the sewers.

This one spot, with the entire weight of a building bearing down on it.

This one spot, which they were standing right next to.

Too late, the Engineer saw the structurally weakened pipe crack and collapse, crushing them under a heap of rubble.

MEANWHILE, BACK BY THE SENTRY: The Sentry, despite having emptied its magazine, still clicked at that one spot in the sewers which had collapsed. It had totally failed to notice the cloaked Pyro placing his modified sapper on it.

And the walkie-talkie finally spoke once more, free of all static:

_Repeat, this is Red Team calling Blue Team, do you read?_


	6. Chapter 6 plus: Communication

**Chapter 6: Communication**

**Note:** I just want to take this moment to thank everyone that is now following this story. I couldn't do this without your support. I also want to say that I fully intend to see this story through to its end, rather than give up after a few chapters. After this is over, I plan on making a crossover of Left 4 Dead and TF2. I hope I can get your support on that one, too.

The Spy walked through the sewers, searching for the genesis of the awful sounding explosion. Unfortunately, he found it.

He looked at the collapsed pipe, at the sabotaged sentry, at the bodies of his two teammates. He took a closer look at the sapper the Pyro had attached. It was an ingenious design, made to trigger the sentry rather than disable it. But why not make it fire at the men themselves?

And why did he always taunt his foes, even though it risked blowing his cover?

Because it wasn't just about the kills, was it? It was about the humiliation, the sheer ability to say that you not only beat them, but beat them totally.

He wasn't just killing the team. He was dominating them.

The Spy sighed, wondering how he could ever hope to stop such a clever and evil foe as the Pyro.

_Repeat, this is Red Team calling Blue Team, do you read?_

The Spy's attention snapped to the discarded walkie-talkie lying on the ground. Without hesitation, he snatched up the device. "This is the Blue Spy, I read you, over."

_Spy? Where's the Blue Engineer?_

"He's dead, along with our Heavy. I do not know how many of us are left."

_Dead? Damn! If he's dead, then it's just you and the Medic left._

The Spy's breath caught for a moment. Just him and the Medic? How could that maniac have eliminated the entire team so quickly?

_Never mind that now! We've come up with a way to defeat the Pyro! All you neezzzzzis to lure hizzzzzzzzzzz-_

"Repeat the message! I need to lure him to what?" the Spy yelled frantically.

_Zzzzz TURBINE! You have to lure him into our intel room in Turbine! We've got a trap set zzzzz so you have to zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz-_

xxxxxxx

"-the Red Intelligence room! Do you copy, Spy?" the Red Engineer shouted into his walkie-talkie.

"We've lost the signal!" the Red Scout shouted back.

"Well we need to get it back! We have to get that message out! Scout, check the supply closet, there should be a signal amplifier." The Scout ran off to do so. "Demo! Soldier! That signal came from the 2Fort sewers. You two need to get down there and recover the Engineer's and Heavy's bodies. Spy, follow along behind them to make sure the Pyro doesn't take them by surprise." The three ran to the exit. "Heavy, did you get those supplies down to Turbine like I told you?"

"Most," the Heavy replied simply.

"Well, get the rest there on the double! We need those parts there before we can set up the trap! Sniper, any sign of the Pyro out there?"

The Sniper looked away from the window for a moment. "Not a sign of him."

"Keep looking. We can't afford to let him take us by surprise. Doc, how are they doing?"

The Medic took a little more time to answer that. Each time they had wheeled in a new man, the damage was worse than the last. The Blue Scout had his spine broken in 3 locations, the Demoman had had extensive shrapnel damage, the Soldier's skull was split down the middle, and the Sniper's neck had broken from falling out of that tower. The Mediguns had healed these injuries, and yet they did not move, and every minute the Medic expected to hear one of their EKGs flatlining.

They hadn't despawned, either. Usually, these injuries would've brought them far past 0 health, but somehow they hung on. This was no doubt the work of the Pyro, who had tampered with the spawn points in a way far more clever than simply deactivating them. Why, he was not sure, but by the way things were going, they were going to despawn when the Pyro wanted.

Now he turned to the Engineer. "I have healed their bodies, but their minds are still off somewhere far away. It's as if that monster has claimed their souls, rather than their lives."

"So, they're not dead?"

"No, and yes. Let me ask you a question. Do you remember the last time you died?"

The Engineer thought for a moment. He remembered back to that time, lying motionlessly on the ground, butterfly knife in his back, waiting to respawn.

And then it hit him. He looked up at the Medic, who nodded. "He doesn't want them dead, does he?" the Engineer said.

"No, Herr Engineer. He wants to play a game."


	7. Chapter 7: Confrontation

**Chapter 7: Confrontation**

JUST OUTSIDE TURBINE, 10:30 P.M.

The Spy uncloaked, reaching for the door handle. Fortunately, it was unlocked, and he quickly entered the Turbine building.

He was very nervous. The one time he had hoped to catch the attention of the Pyro, he was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he had heard the Red team's broadcast, or perhaps he was simply lying in wait. Either way, the Spy didn't like it.

Well, while he was waiting, he might as well head to the Red supply room and stock up on weapons. After all, there was no telling what that crazed man might have up his sleeve.

A gloved hand shot from the shadows and grabbed his shoulder. The Spy wheeled around, gun in hand.

"Wait, don't shoot! It's just me!" the Medic shouted. Sure enough, the Spy recognized the familiar lab coat and glasses almost immediately.

"Forgive me, doctor. I had you mistaken for – well, you know who. Come now, we must hurry to the intelligence room. The Red team has prepared a trap for the Pyro, and I could certainly use an Ubercharge from you to help me lure him in."

The Medic looked a little uncomfortable. "Well, there's a little problem. You see, my Medigun has suffered some damage, and I am unsure how safe it might be. It could theoretically explode at any moment, and I am bound by the Hippocratic Oath to protect you from any unsafe environment."

The Spy frowned. "Very well, Doctor. Follow me, and we'll see if we can't find you a new one." With that, he went into a full dash to the Red respawn room, passing through the dropdown gate before the Medic could respond.

"Herr Spy, wait!" the Medic yelled, running after him. Since when did that Spy run so fast? Not stopping to wonder, the Medic ran through the dropdown door.

The Spy was waiting on the stairs, the Ambassador pointed at the Medic's head.

"The Medic I know would never let the Hippocratic Oath stand in the way of helping his teammates! You should have just killed me when I walked in the door, Pyro!"

The Medic's look of confusion disappeared, replaced by a sinister smile. "But where would the fun be in that? You of all people, should know how fun it is to fool a foe like that? To gain their trust using disguises, then see the looks on their faces when you stab them in the back?"

"Not when those men were your friends and allies! Why, Pyro? Why did you have to kill them all?"

The man masquerading as a Medic laughed. "Why? Why would I not? Every single one of them was worthy of the death I graciously awarded them."

The Spy began to get angry. "That's not true!"

"Oh, isn't it? Tell me, dear Spy, who was not deserving of their death?

"Was it the Scout? That vulgar, rude boy with all the worst personalities of a mosquito? His own mother wanted him no more than the rest of the world!

"Or that simpleton Soldier? The bumbling patriot, babbling about freedom and honor, blithely bludgeoning his own kind to death without a second thought? A man who sees no adverse effects of blowing his own person up simply to circumvent stairs?

"The drunkard Demoman? A man so intoxicated that he routinely dresses as a knight and forces everyone to battle in an abandoned castle? Have you ever heard of a more asinine concept?

"The thickhead Heavy? The shaved bear masquerading as a man who treats his godawful gun with more respect than his teammates, who would rather eat sandwiches than battle?

"Perhaps the Engineer? A waste of good brain cells who could cure cancer, but chooses to build toy guns instead? Even his one useful invention, the teleporter, he treats as a toy, wasting, any possible benefit he might have given to society?

"The Medic? A morally absent villain with a list of war crimes as long as my axe? A man who will heal you under the table as long as there are no enemies in sight but flee the moment you actually need him?

"The Sniper? A cold shell of a man devoid of any feelings, who treats men as animals to be slaughtered?

"Or you, the Spy, traitor extraordinaire, the most hated man in all of your team, bane of the Engineer and Sniper's existence? I've wiped a thousand of your kind from the earth, and still one always remains.

"No, dear Spy, you all deserved to die. And in a moment, you will join your friends."

"Then you, too, shall join them. Now, why don't you show me your face. Your real face, not that ridiculous rubber costume."

"Very well." The Medic disappeared, replaced by the Pyro. With one hand pointing his flamethrower at the Spy, his other hand unzipped the back of his rubber mask, and he took the mask off.

The Spy gasped. Beneath that mask lay a face burned and charred beyond recognition. Burns that ran so deep, not even an eternity of respawns could cleanse them. When he spoke, the Pyro's voice was dry and raspy, cruel and emotionless. _"Your turn."_

Still staring at the man's face, the Spy removed his own mask. Beneath it was a handsome face, a face that had seduced so many ladies back when he had been Francois Pellino. Instinctively, he smoothed his thick black hair, gun still pointed at the Pyro.

"So, now we see who we truly are," the Spy said. "And I see a scarred, demented shell of a man. And now I will see you die." He fired his gun, rolling away from the spot he had been standing and cloaking. The Pyro fired his flamethrower into thin air, searching for the Spy. Reacting on instinct, he quickly turned just as the Spy uncloaked behind his back, his butterfly knife embedding itself harmlessly into the Pyro's shoulder. A quick blast from the flare gun, and his French foe was once again engulfed in flames. Except this time, there was no water.

Francois, with no knife, no cloak, and rapidly depleting health, chose to run. He felt no loss of dignity from running and hiding; on the contrary, a relatively small man fighting behemoths such as the Heavy and Soldier often had no choice but to use stealth.

Now, however, as he dodged flares and dashed into the ventilation shafts, he felt more ashamed than he had ever felt before. It had been him that had suggested the team split up as their base burned. He had underestimated the Pyro's chances in single-man combat, and that mistake had cost the rest of the team their lives.

But this was not the time to concentrate on guilt and shame. Now was the time to run. Francois reached the end of the shaft, and the Pyro, having apparently reached the edge of his mental stability, threw his axe at the Spy, just missing. Francois ran around the corner, ran just to the edge of the drop. Just ten feet below, the Red engineer's trap waited.

And then the Spy hesitated. It was such a long drop, and with his injuries, he might not survive. Maybe he should-

FWOOM.

The blast of compressed air hit the Spy just as he turned around, sending the Frenchman tumbling to the ground. He let out a cry of pain as his spine snapped, and his last sight was of the Pyro, jumping down from the shaft, ready to finish the kill.

BEEPBEEP.

The five sentries all targeted the Pyro at once, pinning him to the wall with their fire and blowing him to pieces . The Engineer ran out from cover, dashing to the mortally wounded Spy.

But moments before he reached him, the Spy's broken body vanished. Seconds later, his walkie-talkie buzzed as the Medic called him from his base's communication system.

"Engineer! The Blue team's bodies…they've despawned! What does this mean?"

The Engineer stared at where the Spy had dematerialized. "It means they're in his world now. And it means we're gonna get them out."

xxxxxxx

5…4…3…2…1…

The Spy opened his eyes. He looked down at his body, whole and unbroken. His mask and butterfly knife had returned to him. Did this mean he wasn't dead?

Suddenly he heard a familiar voice he never thought he would hear again. "I Spy with my little eye!"

The Spy turned around and saw his team, standing as if they had never died. He ran to them, and the Heavy embraced him in a giant bear hug.

"I thought you were all dead," the Spy said, emotion growing in his voice for the first time in years.

The Blue Soldier snorted. "Me? Die before you? Never in my lifetime, buddy!"

Suddenly, a voice boomed across the team, a voice only the Spy had heard before, the voice of a man who had been to hell and back and was now going to bring his hell to the rest of the world.

"_Gentlemen. Welcome to Hell."_


	8. Chapter 8: Hell

**Note:** Well, I really didn't expect all the support I've gotten from this fanfic. It makes me sad to think that it's almost over. Yes, this story ends at Chapter 10, and it will be a glorious final 3 chapters. I've enjoyed writing this, way more than I thought I would. I hope you enjoy it too.

**Chapter 8: Hell, Part 1**

The Blue team, finished with their tearful reunion, finally began to look around at their surroundings. Alas, it was not a pretty sight.

What had once been the map colloquially known as Upward had been transformed into a blazing inferno. Every building was engulfed in flames, the ground was covered in ashes, and the blue sky was suffocated by a thick cloud of ash and smoke.

"What the hell is this?" the Scout wondered aloud.

The Spy closed his slack jaw. "This, my boy, is what our former teammate was thinking of every time he turned on that flamethrower. And it's what will happen to the rest of the world if we don't stop him here."

The Scout turned to him. "Stop him? We can't even hurt that bastard, let alone stop him! We have no chance!"

"_Wrong!"_ boomed the terrible voice across the charred landscape. _"You have one chance."_

"What the hell does that-" the Scout began, but the Medic cut him off. "Cease your incessant chatter, young man, and look at the rails."

They all looked down. Indeed, something seemed a bit off with the railway system they had carted countless bombs across. It was the Sniper, with his keen eyesight, that noticed the difference first. "They're backwards!"

As absurd as that sounded, the rest of the team soon realized he was right. The One-Way Motion Disruptors, the tiny features of the rails that prevented the Red team from pushing their bomb back to their own base, were pointed in the opposite direction. But why…?

Following the rails back to their terminus, the team soon found out. Where a massive shaft had once waited, now there was solid floor. Sitting at the very end – or perhaps the beginning – of the rail was a massive bomb. Not red, not blue, but black. Sitting atop this bomb was the Pyro. He had donned his mask once again, and a new flame retardant suit, also pitch black.

Staring up at this man, the Spy understood. "You would have us play your game, for the sole purpose of humiliating us further?"

The Pyro nodded, pointing his axe at the team, then tapping the bomb he sat on. The message was clear: Play this last round, or die right here and now.

It was the Soldier that responded to this threat. "We accept, you foul scum! Now you will see the full might of our team!"

Even with the mask, the Pyro's smile was abundantly clear. He tapped his wrist, and the game began.

BEEP.

Moments later, the entire Blue team was back in their respawn room, wondering how they missed the Stickybombs that had been placed. The Spy suggested they formulate a strategy, but the Soldier knew that would be pointless. After all, the Pyro was still out there, pushing on that cart, inching closer to his goal, and he would be damned if he let that happen!

Screaming his bloodcurdling war cry, the Soldier charged out of the Blue respawn area, rocket launcher in hand. When he at last caught up to the Pyro, he immediately implemented his master plan, a plan he had been saving in case his standard strategy with his Rocket launcher ever failed him.

He pulled out the Righteous Bison, steadied his aim, and fired. The Pyro immediately took notice and began charging towards him. The Soldier smiled. Three more hits, and this goddamned Pyro was vaporized!

He never got off three more shots, though, because the Pyro closed the distance between them faster than he could even react, and he was soon engulfed in flames.

Exactly as he planned.

Out came the Equalizer, and suddenly he was dashing away from that idiot Pyro. The Pyro tried his best to catch him, but he was soon well out of range, and he delivered his final blow: a Rocket straight to the chest!

_Fwoom._

A moment too late, he remembered how the Pyro dealt with rockets. In the moment before he exploded into a hundred pieces, the Soldier was already ready for his plan C.

The Scout, on the other hand, took a more tactical approach. Remembering his previous skirmish with the Pyro, the Scout waited until the man came around a blind corner overlooking the cliff wall.

Bam bam! The Force-A-Nature fired, throwing the Pyro off of the cliff, to fall to his death!

_Fwoom._

The Scout stared in amazement as the Pyro's airblast propelled himself back onto solid ground. Clearly, the man had made modifications.

He didn't stare for long, though. Reloading, he fired at the Pyro once again just as the Pyro shot his airblast at him. The two men flew apart from the combined knockback forces.

Except the Pyro landed somewhere soft, whereas the Scout landed somewhere…hot. And just like that, the Pyro captured checkpoint 1.

A bit farther back, just around another corner, the Demoman waited, Eyelander and Chargin' Targe in hand. There would be no stickybomb business with this run, just a quick charge, a slash, and then death.

Then the Pyro came around the corner, gun ablaze. The Demoman charged, slashing out with his Eyelander. Alas, he missed by just a hair, but a quick turn would solve that-

WHACK!

The Demoman rematerialized in the respawn room, still unsure what had just happened. Only when he rubbed his hand over the left side of his face did he realize what had happened.

And then he was mad. I mean, killing a man by hitting them specifically on the side of the face they couldn't see it coming? Rude.

xxxxxxx

The Heavy slowly walked towards checkpoint 2, minigun spinning. He didn't really have a strategy, but that had never stopped him before!

When he encountered the Pyro, he would win. It was as simple as that. His minigun, polished and cleaned to perfection, would tear that puny flamethrower to shreds.

And if he did manage to set him on fire? Well, that was what Sandviches were for, wasn't it? And he had plenty of Sandviches in his lunchbox, enough to survive anything the Pyro could throw at him. He was prepared for fire. He was totally prepared for-

The Heavy froze. Literally. His body transformed into ice, a scream frozen on his face. The now uncloaked Pyro, just to add insult to injury, kicked his new sculpture off the cliff.

As the Pyro passed checkpoint 2, the Heavy reflected that life usually did turn out that way. When you prepared for fire, they always brought ice…

xxxxxxx

The Spy, sitting in the conference room in their respawn point, buried his head in his hands. The Engineer's sentries had held the Pyro in check for now, but it was only a matter of time before that infernal man blasted through that, too. This debate they were having about how to beat the Pyro was going nowhere. Everyone had their own plan, save for the Soldier, who was absent for some strange reason, and none of them were any good.

Every one of his plans had been blown away by the Pyro, and he was starting to get desperate. After all, these were their lives on the line, and the Spy had no idea how to save them.

Just then, the Spy burst through the door. "I have a plan," he announced.

The Spy groaned silently. "Well then, I suggest you take a number. We have no shortage of plans now."

"Don't backsass me, French fancy! This is a good plan!"

The Spy sighed. "All right then, what is it?"

The Soldier, moving quickly, slapped a faded piece of paper on the table. "Well, all of our current plans have failed, right? But that only makes sense. This man we're fighting was once our friend. He knows the game, he knows our strategies, he knows all the rules."

"So what do you propose to do about it?" asked the Spy, intrigued.

"We make a new set of rules," the Soldier said, smoothing out the paper.

The Spy looked at the paper. Clearly this was not a man who had made any sophisticated design documents before. Letters were hastily scratched out and circled, the various steps to the plan were jumbled and disorderly, and whatever Part 3 had been was now so faded and scribbled out that it was impossible to see.

But the plans…

The Spy had to read the document again, to make sure he had actually seen it correctly. These plans were good. Really good. Better than any single plan he had ever come up with.

Briefly, the Spy pondered how such a genius set of plans could come from such a dullard as the Soldier. But no, now was not the time to speculate.

Now was the time to fight.


	9. Chapter 9: Hell part 2

**Chapter 9: Hell part 2**

As the Pyro adjusted his modified Dead Ringer and prepared to assault the Sentry that had briefly assailed him, he chuckled, considering that this was the longest any of his former team had held him back so far. Nobody was offering the least bit of challenge whatsoever.

And why should they? He had been with them for years, and he had memorized all of their fighting styles. And once you knew the fighting styles, it was easy to beat them. Every single one of them had a clear and obvious weakness. Spy was weak to Pyro, Engineer was weak to Spy, Sniper was weak to Engineer, Heavy was weak to Sniper, et cetera.

That was how he had gotten the drop on every single one of them, playing their weaknesses like an accordion, and it was how he was going to take care of them now. And just as before he would make every one of their deaths beautiful. Almost artistic. The beauty of war…almost as beautiful as the beauty of fire.

He wheeled around the corner, totally invisible, prepared to take on the sentry – only to discover that it was no longer there. The Pyro was confused. Had the Engineer given up and fled? All that remained where the sentry had stood was a teleporter, probably the one the Engineer had teleported to.

Only it was an entrance, not an exit. And it led back towards their respawn point.

Okay, now he was really confused. Why would you make a teleporter that goes the wrong way? For a speedy retreat? Well, he supposed there was only one way to find out. He entered the teleporter.

BEEPBEEP.

The Pyro found himself pinned against the wall by a stream of bullets before being blown away by a rocket, suffering his first death of the round.

He respawned, and understood what had happened. The teleporter was a curiosity trap, luring him in with its seemingly nonsensical appearance. Clever.

No, not clever. Utterly stupid beyond belief. Such a trap would take a great deal of time and resources to set up, and against only one opponent it would only ever work once, if ever. Why even bother?

Exiting from his spawn point, the Pyro saw something that took his mind off of that stupid trap: the Scout, who, having not learned from his mistakes, was back. But wait, someone was with him – the Medic!

Why the hell was the Medic healing the Scout? It was utterly pointless, and how could he even keep up with the boy? Oh, he was using the Quick-Fix, so that explained that, but it didn't explain why-

The Pyro suffered his second death when the Medic pinned his head to the wall with his crossbow.

Respawning, the Pyro realized just what his plan had been. By hustling to battle with the Scout, the Medic had reached him quickly, then taken him out with his crossbow.

But that was even more idiotic than the curiosity trap! A Medic is not supposed to fight directly, that'd waste his only unique capability! It'd be like a Sniper getting melee kills!

For a second time, the Pyro ran from the respawn room to confront the Medic and Scout, whereupon the Medic activated his Ubercharge.

His Ubercharge? He wasted an Ubercharge on the Scout? What an asinine thing to do! And it didn't even make him invincible, either! It just upgraded his damage! But anyway, the Pyro snapped out of his wonderings, for the Scout had run up to him and was hitting him with a fish.

A FISH?

You can't make a melee weapon out of a fish! To illustrate this, the Pyro chopped the fish the Scout was holding in half, whereupon the Scout put the tail on his head and ran away, the Medic in tow.

Now the Pyro was just mad. Did they think this was some sort of game? This beautiful battle, a game? Furious, the Pyro ran around the corner, where he was immediately flattened by a crate marked _Hats_. Then he suffered his third death as the Kukri penetrated his skull, respawning instantly.

Hats?

HATS?

They could've hit him with something far heavier – a crate of weapons, a crate of metal, almost anything – and they went with the goddamn HATS?

And wait a minute, what was that that had killed him?

…

Inexcusable.

xxxxxxx

In front of the Blue respawn point, the Soldier stood in front of his team, directing them on how to make their final charge.

"All right, this is it. Sniper and Medic, you two will lead the charge. Engineer, you support them with your pistol. Heavy, you're our melee weapons guy, in case he gets up close and personal. Scout, you'll be running along behind us, making sure he doesn't flank us. Spy, you're up in the buildings around us, providing cover fire. And finally-"

"_ENOUGH!"_

The Pyro, mask removed, had stormed down to the spawn point, holding two axes and fuming.

"_You dare mock the art of war? You have no respect for the battles you have been graced with having! But I, I will teach you respect! Fight me, now! I demand it!"_

The eight mercenaries looked at one another. They knew the time had come. No more games, no more trickery, no more jokes. This was it, the fight that would determine whether they lived or died, whether this madman they had once called a friend would triumph and turn to the world, or fall.

The time had come.

The final battle.


	10. Chapter 10: End

**Chapter 10: End**

It was the Soldier that attacked first, running towards the Pyro, Equalizer in hand. His first swing, wild and uncoordinated, was easily countered by the Pyro. His second swing, aiming for the man's midriff, was caught by the Pyro's axe as well. One yank, and the Equalizer was out of his hand. One swing, and the Soldier was on the ground, a large gash in his side.

Next was the Scout, coming in swinging with his new bat, the Sandman. He threw a baseball to stun the Pyro, but he dodged it with ease, meaning that he was well ready when the Scout reached him. A quick airblast and the Scout flew high into the air, coming down and breaking his ankles. The Pyro soon brought one of his axes down on his leg, immobilizing him further. The Medic, who had been focused on the Soldier, now diverted his Medigun to the Scout, hoping that nobody else would get injured soon.

The Demoman charged in with his Eyelander, and they soon began to duel. The Sniper ran in beside him, engaging the Pyro with his Kukri. The Pyro, faced with the task of fighting two men at once, forced the Demoman into a power struggle and, with his other hand, fired a flare at the Sniper. The Sniper quickly drew a jar of Jarate and extinguished himself, but the Pyro fired another flare, this one at his face. Blinded and in pain, the Sniper could only lie there as the battle unfolded.

The Demoman, a strong man by any standards, was amazed by how well the Pyro was standing up to his assaults. The Pyro had always been a threat to the Demoman, of course, with his reflective airblast, but this was something different altogether. And now that his second axe was freed up, he would no doubt start hacking at the Demoman's extremities. But he didn't. His second axe, instead, began whacking at the Eyelander near the hilt, once, twice, three times, four times-

CLANG!

The blade, unable to sustain such abuse, clattered to the ground, leaving the Demoman with only the hilt of the once-proud Eyelander. The Demoman attempted to charge him bare-knuckle, but the Pyro whirled around, hitting him in the back with both axes, and he fell like an oak.

The Heavy, rather than resorting to his minigun, drew his fists and challenged the Pyro to a fist fight. Surprisingly, the Pyro accepted, and the two began to fight.

A few moments later, after a few kidney punches and kicks to the kneecaps, the Heavy knew exactly why he had accepted. Quickly, he reached for his Sandvich, but the Pyro stomped on his fingers, crushing them, and the Sandvich was soon stomped into the dirt.

The Medic, now frantic, was darting from body to body, concentrating on who was nearest death, on who needed healing the most. He, unlike the rest of the team, had noted that the moment the Pyro had stormed down to them, the gates to their respawn room had slammed shut, despite the fact that they should've been open. There was no doubt in the his mind that anyone who respawned would be forced to watch as the rest of their teammates were taken apart, one by one. And when they had all died – well, the Medic didn't want to think about that.

The Engineer, the most tactical of the bunch, had elected to wear the Gunslinger, a robot replacement of his arm, when he respawned. This arm, in addition to increasing his health, was more than able to withstand a beating from the Pyro's axes. He didn't even bother with mini-sentries, since he knew the Pyro would chop them down in an instant. Instead, he sparred, and he lasted much longer than the others. He even managed to gab one of the Pyro's axes and break the handle, lowering him to one axe! Unfortunately, this meant the Pyro had a free hand, which he used to grab the Engineer's metal arm, and with his other axe, he chopped off the arm and kicked the Engineer to the ground, one more corpse for the Medic to stall the death of.

Which just left the Spy.

They stood there, the ultimate rivals, axe vs. knife, waiting for the other to make a move. In a flash, the Pyro drew his flamethrower, burning the Spy severely. Attempting to run away, the Spy was hit by the flat of his axe, knocking him to the ground. Defenseless, the Spy lay there, as the Pyro loomed above him, ready for the final blow.

"YAAAAAAH!"

The Soldier, side still bleeding, had jumped onto the Pyro's back, preventing him from getting off a clean swing. "You-will not harm-one hair-on that-puny man's head!" the Soldier grunted, struggling with the Pyro. But he soon threw the Soldier off, swirling his axe over his head-

Then the Demoman slammed into him, Chargin' Targe thrust in front of him. As the Pyro swung at him, the Sniper threw a jar of Jarate – no telling how he produced it so quickly – simultaneously drenching the Pyro and extinguishing the Spy. Spluttering in confusion, the Pyro didn't even see the Scout, who fell from the sky, Sandman in both hands, his blow to the Pyro's head coinciding with that of the Heavy's to his chest. Even the Engineer managed to get some hits in, with his pistol landing a few accurate hits.

This combined onslaught was too much for the Pyro, and he fell. As he did, the Soldier taunted him. "You made one mistake when you attacked our team, Balbo Bodkins! YOU ATTACKED OUR TEAM! Now I hope you've made travel plans, because we're kicking your ass all the way to Mexico! WHAT DO HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THAT?"

BOOM!

The Blue team was knocked off their feet as an explosion leveled the Blue respawn room. The Pyro rose, laughing. _"You idiots! Did you ever think I wasn't in control of the whole battle? And this is just Phase 1. The next explosion will take the entire map! And before I teleport out of here, I'll enjoy seeing every single one of you die! And we'll start with you, Spy!"_

The rest of the team, dumbfounded, stared as the Pyro began to charge, closing the distance to the Spy until-

WHAM!

The Red Pyro swung his axe, catching the formerly Blue Pyro in the face and knocking him down for the last time. Facing away from the Blue Team, he tore off his mask, and as he hacked away at the other Pyro's neck, he began to speak, his voice full of fury.

"This is for what you did to me! What you did to them! What you were going to do to the world! Now you die! Die! DIE!"

Finally, as the ex-Pyro's head rolled away, the Medic put a calming hand on the red Pyro's shoulder. "It's okay. He's dead."

The only Pyro turned his head to face the Blue team. His face was young and handsome, Caucasian in origin, and long blond hair fell past his soft blue eyes. ("I knew he was a hippy," the Soldier muttered.) "I know," the man said, the rage and madness leaving his face.

WHOOSH!

xxxxxxx

The Red Engineer frantically tapped on his keyboard, sweat running down his brow. Behind him, the supersized teleporter strained from the effort of carrying so many people so far. "Medic! Can you see them yet?"

The Medic squinted at the teleporter. "It looks like they're coming, but it's hard to tell!"

Nothing like this had ever been tried before. Building a larger teleporter was simple enough, but to pick up eight people with no entrance teleporter? It was nearly impossible!

The Engineer clenched his fists. _If a fat Scottish man with a red shirt can do it, so can I._ He pounded the keyboard. "Come on, you stupid sonofabitch! Work! Work!"

FWOOM!

Finally, the eight men – or was it nine? – appeared on the exit pad. At the same time, Upward exploded, causing critical marks to appear on his display screen, but none of that mattered now. The Blue team was back! And with them – no, that couldn't be –

"Herr Pyro!" the Medic exclaimed, embracing the man they thought had been lost forever. But it didn't take him long to notice the Blue team and the injuries thereof. "All right, everyone, celebration can wait until later. Right now, you all must come down to the medical bay! No exceptions!"

The Blue team, still in shock over what had just happened, followed the Medic to the hospital. Except for the Spy, who lingered for a moment. He turned to the Engineer. "Well, Engineer, I'm not sure how you did what you just did, but we are forever in your debt for it. It seems we are not so different, the two of us, and I offer you now a permanent cease-fire between Blue and Red, in light of what has transpired in the past few days." He offered his hand to the Red Engineer.

He took it. "Gladly, partner. Gladly." Later on, there would be celebrations, drinking, and the sharing of stories of how each of them was personally responsible for their victory, but for now there was peace.

Because it was finally over.

**The End**

**P.S.** Once again, I would like to thank everyone for their support. Also, many of you may be wondering what's next. Well, as I've already told you, I'm planning a Left 4 dead crossover later, but in between now and then I'll be doing something a little unorthodox: Chapter Plus!

You see, I've been working like a madman, trying to bring all of these chapters to you on time, and there were certain story bits I wanted to put in but didn't have the time for. Well, now I'll be adding them. Check back on the story every two days or so, and look at the chapter names in the drop-down list. Every time I add to a chapter, I'll add a + to the name; for example, Chapter 4: Elimination will become Chapter 4+: Elimination. Remember, this is just in the drop-down list, and I'll be doing this about every 2 days. Once again, thank you all for reading, and I hope you can stick around for my extended chapters.


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